Armored Hand On Armored Hip
by Kifo Sotri
Summary: Possible minor spoilers for Halo 5 campaign. After the battle of Sunaion has ended, Sarah Palmer is approached by someone.


**Author's Note: Well, this is my first attempt at a story. Not much else to say but that, really. I thought this up while I was playing Halo 5 yesterday night, and it just wouldn't leave me alone. If you like it, why not tell me that in a review? If you didn't like it, please let me know where I went wrong in writing it, and i'll try to make sure to take it into account in future works...if there are any.**

 **It's pretty obvious, but just in case.**

Spoilers for Halo 5: Guardians

Commander Sarah Palmer, commanding officer of the UNSC Infinity's contingent of 300 Spartan IVs, let out a tired sigh. Even from her perch on a boulder, roughly half a mile from the borders of the outpost, the faint sound of festivities echoed through the valley in front of her. The battle for Sunaion had long since ended, even though she had been stuck in a crashed Pelican for the tail end of it. After the Guardian had gone into slipspace, Palmer had been skilled enough to guide the spinning dropship into one of the buildings that wasn't below sea level, though she knew that luck had been a factor in the ship impacting nose first.

She had not, unfortunately, been able to hit a platform with access to the upper levels, which would have allowed her a chance to get back to the front lines. Instead, the Commander been given the unique pleasure of sitting across Dr. Catherine Halsey for six hours, just above sea level, with nothing to do. The good doctor had been gracious enough to fill the silence with enough ranting and complaining to make Sarah dwell on memories of happier times, like the time she had put a slug into Halsey's shoulder. Naturally, an extended period of time in the aging scientist's presence had been as exhausting to her body as it had been to her patience, and Sarah had really looked forward to a relatively soft, but more importantly horizontal, bunk that no doubt waited back in the outpost.

Much to her irritation, however, that soft, flat surface wouldn't embrace her back for another ten hours. Given how tense things were, though, the delay wasn't a surprise. Even having crushed the last stronghold of the Covenant Remnant beneath the heel of their boots had failed to make the Swords of Sanghelios relax, which was a sensible attitude considering the close call at the Vadam Keep three days prior. The edge and strained atmosphere in the camp, not to mention the ongoing festivities, had been enough to make Palmer jump at the opportunity for a ten hour shift of sentry duty. Even if she had been able to rest, the chance of her sleeping while her blood pumped and her heart raced after a protracted battle that culminated in a rapid insertion of fireteam Osiris onto the shoulder of a Guardian. Ten hours to clear her head, along with the off-chance of putting holes into a wayward hostile, was something that would make sleep easy when she finally had the chance. With that in mind, Commander Palmer put her back against a rock wall, relaxed her grip on her DMR, eyed her tracker, and let her mind drift.

Two hours into her watch, however, Palmer had her patience tested in the form of a yellow blip on her tracker. When it had gotten to the fifteen meter mark only to stop, her attention had shifted back to the area in her direct line of sight. Palmer might have paid attention to the blip if it had gotten within ten meters before it stopped, but the interloper had decided to idle just out of range of the ambient mic and keep to itself.

Then it had started to move, which immediately warranted her attention. Palmer made certain that her body would look relaxed, but the way her hands gripped her rifle belied a readiness to burst into action. A solid thirty minutes of the blip moving back and forth, however, made the Commander both exasperated and curious. Whatever this guy had in mind, it was clear that they couldn't decide on whether to approach her or cut their losses. That ruled out the Sangheili, both officers and troops, since there would be no hesitation from them if they needed or wanted something. The next option was a social call. That one got shot down immediately, as the people that openly talked to Palmer in a social situation could be counted on one hand, with fingers to spare.

After the interloper had maintained the back and forth pattern for a solid twenty minutes, however, the Commander decided that whoever that person was had no idea what they were doing. It was ridiculous, frankly, the way that whoever the little blip represented walked close enough to be picked up by the ambient mic, shuffled around, and quickly stepped back out of range. Another ten minutes of the pattern, however, threw any humor out of the window, irritation comfortably slipping into the vacancy left by her mirth. The only reason to be out here was to approach her, and by the way that this moron had repeatedly attempted to get closer to her post ruled out any other options. It would be obvious anyone with a brain that they had gotten too close to remain unnoticed. All of which begged the question, why hadn't this fool walked over and said what they needed to say? She doubted that whatever they had to tell her would be important, their extended deliberation on whether or not to even initiate the conversation had made that part very clear.

The realization that the blip intended to make a social call brought with it a heavy dose of confusion. After all, there could be no other reason that allowed so much wasted time. That failed to explain why she had been the subject of a social call. She couldn't even remember the last time anyone had approached her off duty except for Thomas. Lasky had become a friend, an actual friend, to Palmer during their time on the Infinity, and he had remained the only person who held the title for the entirety of her time stationed aboard the Infinity. There had yet to be single encounter with someone on Sunaion that would have created a reason or even an inclination for a person to approach her, much less attempt to strike up a conversation. Another ten minutes decided her course of action, and Palmer made sure the surrounding area lacked signs of activity before setting her tracker to 50 meters before she rose from her seat, flipped the safety on her weapon, and walked around the corner to send this distraction on their merry way. Apparently, Spartan IV training and a lack of basic situational awareness meant that the Commander was less than five meters away from the Sangheili before they even noticed her. With a yelp that sounded like it belonged to a little girl, the Sangheili Minor stumbled away from silver clad woman.

"You need something?" was all that Palmer could force out before she killed her external speakers, laughter flowing from her lips at the absurdity of the situation. The Minor took far longer than he should have to recover from his shock, and his body language told her that the Elite knew she had laughed, even without the audio confirmation. After he took a moment to clear his throat, the Minor straightened his posture and stood at full height.

"Not... not really, no. I don't exactly _need_ something, I just..."

He trailed off, eyes panicked as they darted back and forth. The display was uncharacteristic for a member of his species, but it brought about a twinge of sympathy in her heart. She had acted in a similar manner on occasion, even if it hadn't happened in over a decade.

"You just... what, exactly?" Palmer said, and the surge of panic that flowed through the Elite gave her more than a little satisfaction, not to mention enjoyment.

"I just- I mean…" The Elite tripped over his words before a defeated sigh forced itself out of his mouth, "Nevermind. It doesn't matter, anyways."

When it became clear that he intended to leave the conversation at that, Sarah clicked off her external speakers, let out an exasperated sigh, and made her decision. Whatever he had come to tell her was so important to the Elite that he had agonized over it for more than an hour in an attempt to muster the courage needed to talk to her, and as far as she was concerned, that warranted an actual chance to speak his mind. The Minor hadn't even completed the turn to head back to camp before Sarah's hand was on his shoulder.

"Alright, I'm gonna stop you right there. You clearly have something that you need to tell me, something that warrants the internal debate you've been having for the last hour or so."

When the Minor froze in place, Palmer felt the urge to laugh once more, though she managed to keep it in check. He either had no clue just how conspicuous he was, or he didn't realize that Mjolnir armor came with a motion tracker. After the look of shock had given her enough satisfaction, she tapped the side of her helmet with her free hand to clue him in as to what had given him away. The realization showed clear on his face, which cemented her latter theory as the correct one.

"Contrary to popular belief, Minor, I don't bite unless the situation calls for it. So you can rest assured that I won't kick your teeth in unless you deserve it. Now, spill."

Sarah racked her brain for the reason that this Sangheili soldier had approached her on his own while she had sentry duty. Had she saved him during the battle or something? Palmer took pride in the chaos she had sown in the Covenant lines before she'd appropriated a Pelican and taken the good Doctor for a ride. She knew that breaking lines and boosting morale had been a Spartan tradition since long before she even learned about the super soldiers, so it would not be too much of a surprise that her actions had made a soldier or two grateful. The possibility that this had been his attempt to show gratitude produced no small amount of guilt in her heart for how much she had messed with the Elite, and it grew even larger from how much she had enjoyed it. The Minor likely held no small amount of doubt, or even fear, at the prospect of approaching a Spartan IV, which would be made all the worse by her well known position of Commander. Given the relatively recent switch from enemy to ally, Sarah's attempts to make the Elite squirm for her own amusement would no doubt have come across as an intimidation tactic from a human with a grudge. Still, he had stopped the attempts to flee from her very presence, so perhaps he would say what he needed to say and let her get back to her job. Whatever it was, it had better happen sooner rather than later, since she had been gone from her post for nearly ten minutes at this point.

Apparently her words of encouragement had done trick, since the Elite no longer looked like his only option would be to escape from the conversation. Roughly a minute of awkward silence followed before the Sangheili produced a data pad from behind his back. He held it up, turned it on, and looked down to read the contents. The Elite took a moment to clear his throat one last time before he began to speak.

"I saw you standing at your ship, with armored hand on armored hip-"

Sarah's face twisted in confusion, uncertain as to what the hell this guy had planned.

"Both my hearts began to pound, so lovely was what I found."

Her jaw dropped as the pieces finally clicked together, and she didn't even attempt to stop the words that slipped from her lips.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

 **Edit: Hot damn, I can't believe that nearly three years have passed since I first made this story. I removed the second chapter earlier, thinking that it wasn't something I wanted to keep on the internet. After I did so, I realized that it wouldn't be fair to the people who actually enjoyed it if I just pulled it off of the website. As such, I have gone through and tweaked this first chapter, and I intend to do the same to the second.**


End file.
